So, this past weekend was the first event of the Women of Faith tour… held in Kansas City, MO. When booking my flight I was decidedly disappointed to find that I could not get a flight on American Airlines. Yes, AA and I have a past… but they made nice and now we’re back together.
So I had to settle for traveling on Southwest Airlines. Now, don’t get me wrong… I understand that they are rather excellent in their field. That they have more direct flights and on-time departures, early arrivals, and less expensive ticket prices than most any other airline.
But I suppose it’s a matter of taste. I have a few friends that LOVE, and I mean vehemently LOVE Southwest. So, nothing personal, I promise. I’m just not a fan of the following requirements for flying SWA.
1) Having to check in online: Sitting poised at my computer, exactly 24 hours before my flight… shaky finger hovering over the enter button… waiting for that exact moment to “check in now”…. only to get a “B” seat. It brings back such bad memories from high school math class… no matter how hard I tried… I never got an “A”. Actually, I never got a “B” either.
2) The Cattle Call: What is this? Seriously. The over-achieving, performance-driven, rule-following, OCD, anal-retentive side of me raises its ugly head, only to go crazy when people don’t line up right. I mean, I may have failed getting an “A” boarding pass, but I’ll be darned if someone with a “B 32” ticket is going to board before my “B17”. I’m not competitive, really.
3) Casual attire, casual attitude: Again, I realize this is a matter of preference. But wearing shorts to work with socks and tennies, just seems like, well… camp. Now, I’m all about camp. It’s one of my favorite things. But I need to feel confident in the attendants who might have to act as my rescuers if things should go awry 30,000 feet in the air. I need to sense an air of professionalism. A hint of competence. The potential for heroism. It’s great that you’re so perky at 6am and can chuck peanuts at me with lightning speed… that you can tell corny jokes, sing silly songs and get sleepy patrons to clap on cue. BUT IT’S 6 O’CLOCK IN THE FREAKING MORNING!!!!! ‘Nuff said.
I love the face on the sleepy guy in the front on the left. He looks like I felt Sunday morning when our jovial flight attendant told joke after joke, pun after pun… all before sunrise.
Dear American Airlines. I miss you.